


sat by the River and it made me complete

by Klainesflirtyduets



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:00:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klainesflirtyduets/pseuds/Klainesflirtyduets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes River hides herself in a small hut in the middle of the Black Forest. The Doctor wonders how she manages to just sit still and live time linearly - he tried once with the Ponds, and it was rubbish.<br/>Except that with River nothing is ever so simple, and he finds himself joining her more than he thought he would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sat by the River and it made me complete

River Song is a time traveler. She’s restless, always looking for adventure, always moving through time and space like the meteor strike that she is. She’s just like him, uncaring of the danger, always on the move, always in search of novelty – even though her new discoveries are wreckages and buried civilizations. Just like him, she doesn’t really have a home – she could stop and live with her parents from the moment they discovered who she is, make Amy and Rory’s lovely house her place. She doesn’t though – she visits them constantly, doesn’t let years pass like him (he doesn’t do that on purpose!) – but never lingers too long, possibly just because she doesn’t feel like she belongs there.

The fact that she doesn’t have a _home_ doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a place to stay, though. In fact, after having been pardoned she decided to build a little shack in the middle of the Black Forest. It’s small, modest but definitely comfy and well kept, considering how little she really lives there. If living is the right term to use. It’s better to say that it’s a refuge where River runs to when in need of a pause to breathe and think, possiblyto hide from someone she made angry, or simply to make some good tea and read a nice book to relax. Nobody knows this place exists, not even her parents. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to know it either.

Except that during a mission of hers, things got out of hand, people got hurt and River herself barely made it out alive and called him to rescue her. When he asked if she wanted to stay or if she was headed somewhere in particular, she gave him the coordinates for the little house in the middle of nowhere.

At first, he was quite surprised. River living time linearly? In tranquility? He didn’t think she was capable of it – even whenshe lived in Leadworth as Mels she couldn’t be still and quiet, stealing busses and getting in trouble. He didn’t realize at the time that she didn’t have her own version of the TARDIS. He may not have a home anymore, but he has his big old Sexy to welcome him always. Well, actually the TARDIS would welcome River just as happily of course, she’s her child; but for some reason they just don’t travel together and, as bitter as that is, he doesn’t think they ever will. Probably even River knows it too and that’s why she chose that small cottage as a safe heaven of her own.

It’s just ironic, really, that some non-linear time later he found himself inserting the coordinates River gave him after one of his solo adventures gone badly.She was there opening the door for him when he landed a few feet away from her doorstep. A brief glance, and she was already welcoming him in her arms when he broke down.

And just like that, that place unknown to the world became his shelter too.

*

The interesting thing is, he doesn’t mind stopping at the little shack for awhile. It’s a different experience altogether than living for a few days with the Ponds. That was utter rubbish, really. Time passed so incredibly slow and he was just so bored and impatient that he felt like exploding if he had to sit still for more than two seconds.

There with River, though, he never feels like running away. Time seems frozen, the small hut seems a universe of its own, but surprisingly, he’s fine with that. It’s more than fine, actually. It’s nice. He may even say that he loves it – having their own private pocket universe. The hut is so small and yet so much bigger on the inside. Not physically of course – no Time lords technology in there, no sir -, but with River with him, he just feels like he has each and every wonder of the multiverse right under that roof. He’s still skeptic and incredulous himself, but he enjoys even just sitting on River’s armchair repairing something while she reads, or cuddling together on the sofa and playing with that infamous hair of hers.

It’s so _domestic_ and normal, something he always thought would be dull and boring after so many lives of running around throughout the universe. Yet he gets stupidly excited, his palms sweat and his hearts flutter. There’s a comfort he didn’t think he needed in coming there and having the certainty that he and River are on the same page. They both know each other, they’re together and they’re in love with each other. It’s simple as that.

Except that being in love is anything but simple. Or dull. In fact, it’s possibly more thrilling and terrifying than any adventure he’s ever lived.

*

He grows fonder of the little house the more he stops there. And he stops there quite often, without reasons, just because he misses the atmosphere there. He has a time machine, after all, and if he feels like stopping by at his wife’s house, the universe and its crisis won’t go anywhere.

Once he gets there when River’s out and about who knows where and when in time and space. He gets inside because he has the key, turns on the lights, makes some tea and sits on the armchair. For some reasons, it doesn’t feel right. It should give him comfort like always, but it just seems wrong. The house feels empty and yet suffocating and he’s just miserable. The place is pretty and quiet like every time he stopped by, but he doesn’t see the wonders he usually finds in there. It’s nice and warm outside, the sun is shining through the windows, but there’s no light, there’s no warmth.

Because River isn’t there to make everything brighter, she isn’t there sitting next to him on the armrest melting his hearts with her laugh, with her smell and her proximity. It’s her, the biggest wonder and mystery that he never gets tired of studying and admiring. It’s her that makes this place interesting.

She’s his private universe. It’s her, that makes this place feel like home. She _is_ his home.

He won’t come here when she’s not ever again.

*

He wishes he could say that every visit is a happy one. He wishes he could say that when they’re together in the small house everything is fine and perfect, that nothing but serendipity and ease touches them. He wishes he could say that being this close isn’t hard at all.

If he did, he’d be lying.

Being with River, holding her, drowning in her perfume, getting lost in her laugh and touch is incredibly easy, so easy it’s nearly _natural_. Automatic. It’s beautiful. It’s also incredibly painful. Because when she’s there in his arms, he can’t help but think about how it ends. He can’t ignore, can’t push aside those memories. She’s right there, she’s warm and soft and _real_ , yet he’s mourning her. He feels guilty, and horribly grateful, because she sacrificed for _this_ , for these moments, but it doesn’t make it easier, doesn’t take away the pain.

He thinks of how foolish he was before, both in his previous regeneration and the early days of this one, when he was so terrified by the thought of this brilliant, mad woman knowing so much about him, of her so in love with him she was willing to die for his future with her. When he was so terrified that the only thing he could do was dismissing the mere idea of falling in love too – time gets rewritten all the time, after all. Who said it would go that way? Who was this woman? How important could she possibly be in his life? She knew his _name_. To him, everything just seemed so impossible.

He’s glad for how ironically wrong he was. Not even River trying to murder him stopped him from falling in love with her. And here he is, living all he feared back then, loving her so deeply that he feels sick to his stomach at the idea of losing her, of having already lost her, missing her even though she’s right there but also already gone.

When the pain is so strong he feels like choking, he holds her tighter, hides his face against her chest and breathes deeply, her scent the only oxygen he needs to live; he inhales her perfume that smells like forests and stardust, his hands grab and cling to her body, so soft and warm, and try to hold her closer, _closer_ , and he wishes he could just melt and fuse with her so she’ll never leave.

If he seems desperate – he is -, River doesn’t comment. She doesn’t know, of course she can’t know, but she understands. She lets him clutch her and holds him just as tight, no question asked.

She always understands.

*

Sometimes, he’s not the only one haunted by his past or her future. Sometimes it’s River that needs to be held, to be comforted and protected from the nightmares of her past. And not just from the memories of the things she’s done to him, or that maybe she will do to him in the future. She’s incredibly similar to him, in some ways. He’s aware of the weight some decisions have, the responsibilities one decides to take when one encounters the things they live constantly, the guilt and the pain for things gone badly even when it’s no one’s fault. You don’t ever get used to the loss and the failure, and there’s only so much a person can take before breaking.

He knows it well. He has lost so many people, that he loved or barely knew; he has destroyed civilizations, doomed races to their ends –even if he thought to be right at the moment, even if it was for necessity, even if it was for accident, things like that weight on the heart. You never forget, and you never forgive, not even yourself. _Especially_ yourself.

River never really says what she thinks, but he doesn’t need her to. He sees it in her eyes, he feels it in the way she kisses him and clings to him like her life depends on it. Like she might drown if she lets him go. He can feel the desperation, the self hatred, the need of running away from something that’s inside her.

And it breaks his hearts to know that she feels what he feels. If he could, he’d take her pain, he’d free her from such a burden, but he can’t, not really. What he _can_ do is give her what she needs, what she always gives him in times like those.

Love and forgiveness and understanding in spite of everything.

He shows it with sweet kisses, soothing touches and whispered words of acceptance; he gives himself to her, bares himself to her, physically and mentally, to show her that she’s not alone, that they’re in two in this. That she will never be less than beautiful to his eyes. That she’s forgiven, always and completely, and that she’s loved, so very loved and by no one more than him.

The guilt and the pain don’t just go away, of course; they never do, as much as he wishes he could just hug them out of her. But they fade, they become just another scar of your heart once you come to terms with your own actions. No one’s invincible – no one can save everyone every time, nobody can always make the right choice. That’s what he learned the hard way, that’s what River needs to keep in mind.

She also needs to remember just how wonderful, and brilliant and brave and heroic she is regardless. How strong she is, how brave – she doesn’t even _know_ how courageous she will be. His beautiful meteor strike. His personal superhero. His wife – the woman who saved him so many times and in so many ways. That _sees_ him, actually, truly sees him for exactly who he is, like no one ever has. That loves him in spite of everything.

Some other times, though, he gets the feeling that he’s making amends for things he will or won’t do in his future or things he has or hasn’t done in her past. Their life is just that messy. That’s why he’s glad that somehow he can be there for her, at least here, at least in those moments. He’s glad that they have the chance to make it up and forgive the pain they’ve given or will give each other.

He cannot lie, though. Sometimes he wishes they could tell each other what happens. He would change time for River, even if it’s against his own rules. He would _gladly_ , just to make things easier.

He never suggests it, though. Ironically he doesn’t for River herself, because she wouldn’t have changed one line of what happened between them, didn’t want him to. Because she died for them, for their times together.

_ Not those times. Not one line! Don't you dare. _

And he won’t dare, won’t change a single thing of their history. He made a promise and he’ll respect it. That’s how much he loves her.

But in the end, he’s not sure he wants anything to change, if he’s honest to himself. They may find some comfort in hiding in the middle of the Black Forest inside a small pile of wood and bricks with a roof every now and then, but they’re still the Doctor and River. They just don’t do _simple_. They possibly wouldn’t have chosen one another, if their story had been. Hell, the universe tried to mess with them, yet they managed to fall in love anyway; they fell deeply and tragically, and sometimes it hurts, sometimes it just seems too complicated.But it’s worth it, every single second of their love is worth it, because regardless of their difficulties, regardless of the heartbreak, regardless of the vastness of the universe and its ploys, they won’t stop finding each other.

It may try to move them as simple pawns, but the truth is that the universe is _not_ the boss of them.

They’re wanderers. They’re time travelers. And they’re each other’s home.


End file.
